


The Reluctant Hero

by mktellstales



Series: Watson - Holmes Verse [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Established Johnlock, Fluff, M/M, Parent!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 05:11:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3965644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mktellstales/pseuds/mktellstales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A late night thunderstorm keeps the Holmes - Watson children awake, and crammed into their parent's bed, forcing John to tell them a story about the Reluctant Hero and his sidekick. </p><p>Just a little parentlock fluff. The story does contain characters set up in the stories that precede it, but can easily stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reluctant Hero

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains characters from the ones that precede it, but stands on its own if you haven't read them.  
> Enjoy!

_\- I knew that I wanted you,_

_but I never knew I wanted everything that you've given me until it was ours._

 

"That took longer than usual."

"Finn thought there were monsters under his bed. I had to all but perform an exorcism to get him to sleep."

"An exorcism wouldn't get rid of monsters."

John laughed, "He seemed to think it might. But, he settled for having the hall light on."

"Were you afraid of monsters as a child?" Sherlock asked, running the pad of his thumb along John's knuckle where his hand rested on Sherlock's stomach.

"I was more afraid of the monster my father turned into when he drank."

"I suppose so."

"Mycroft used to tell me the story about the minotaur and the labyrinth. We had a small garden that my mother had trimmed into a little maze to show off her flowers. I could see it out my window as I laid in bed."

"And little Sherlock Holmes was afraid the minotaur was going to come get him?"

"Until I offered up Mycroft in my place; leaving apples and incense in the maze."

"You tried to sacrifice your brother to a mythological beast?"

"Hardly the worst thing either one of us has done to the other."

"That's terrifying but true."

"It's hard to tell Finn monsters don't exist when we clearly know that they do," John said.

"It's a bit easier when we also know that you and I can defeat those monsters."

John smiled and turned on his side so that he could kiss Sherlock. He pressed half of his body against him, and Sherlock lazily wrapped an arm around him, stroking his fingers along the dip in John's back.

A storm had been slowly moving in since lunchtime, and not long after John climbed into bed, the lightning finally started to flash and the thunder started to rumble.

Sherlock slid a leg underneath John, stacking their bodies together better. John let go of Sherlock's lips and kissed his throat, and down his chest.

In the almost silent dark of their bedroom, there was a creak, and a sliver of light cast across the floor, that made the two of them freeze just before a small voice came from the door.

"Dad, I'm scared."

There was a two-toned sigh of amusement and annoyance as John pushed himself off from Sherlock and sat back on his side of the bed.

"Finn, there aren't any monsters under your bed or in the wardrobe." He said.

"Monsters live in my wardrobe?"

"Oh, Christ," John mumbled to himself. He pulled back the blanket between he and Sherlock and watched a grateful smile cross Finn's face before leaping across the floor, and into the bed.

He settled in between his fathers and hugged tight to the ratty elephant he brought downstairs with him. A streak of lightning filled up the room, and a boom of thunder followed. Finn jumped, and leaned into Sherlock's side.

Sherlock put an arm around him and brushed his hair away from his eyes. "There's no need to be afraid of a little storm." He said.

"It's loud."

"Yes, it is. But lightning is just a release of built up electricity in the atmosphere, and the thunder is an explosion of hot air from the bounce back of the lightning. It's nature, and nature isn't scary."

"Tell that to the zebras who die slowly from a Komodo dragon bite."

"I'm starting to think television might do him better than books," John said.

Finn laid down against the pillow he took from John and was ready to fall back asleep when the door opened and freaked again.

"The thunder woke me up, and Finn was gone. Can I come into bed too?" Ethan asked, looking tired and pathetic.

Sherlock and John both moved closer to their edge of the mattress, and Ethan jumped in between his brother and John.

"You can both sleep here, but you have to go to sleep, alright?"

Finn and Ethan quickly agreed, but they seemed to forget just as fast. They fought for space underneath the covers and giggled when their feet brushed at the others side.

The bedroom doorway, still wide open from the last child to come through filled with the shadow of the last. Emily came through, her favorite blue blanket held close to her chest.

"What is all the noise down here?" She asked.

"I suppose you want to get in here too?"

"Please dad, I'm eleven."

Emily took her blanket and curled across the cushioned bench at the end of the bed.

"Tell us a story."  She said.

"I know a thrilling adventure about a minotaur and a labyrinth."

John reached across his sons and cupped his hand over Sherlock's mouth, "No." He said.

"Tell us the one about the reluctant hero who fell in love with his sidekick." Ethan offered.

Sherlock turned to look at John with a grin, "I'm afraid I don't know that one."

"Daddy does. He's told us before."

John was blushing under Sherlock's amused gaze, "Maybe something different tonight." He said.

"No, no. It's what the kids want...daddy."

John mouthed a silent fuck you and ran his fingers through Finn's curls.

"Not long ago there lived a man who was ordinary in every way except for his sadness, which consumed him so greatly, he stayed locked away in a tiny room waiting for the end to come.

Then one day, sick of being pathetic and alone, he dared to venture outside. The world was strange to this former warrior. He had grown used to war - to the pain and anguish that came with it. He had a hard time understanding how these people could go on with their lives when not so far away, innocents were dying. And he didn't understand why he couldn't get on with his own.

The man found a friend and tried to take comfort in the ideas of his past. Then the friend offered to introduce the man to one of his. And it was on that ordinary day that this sad and ordinary man met the most extraordinary of men: The Reluctant Hero."

Finn's eyes had already closed and his head leaned against John's shoulder. Ethan's eyes were open, but the sleep was heavy, and starting to weigh them down. Emily, at the end of the bed, still had her eyes wide open, and a smile on her face, hanging on to the words of John's story as he kept on.

"The Reluctant Hero was in trouble! Faced with the possibility of having to admit he was wrong, his ego told him that he couldn't be, and put the poison up to his lips. Lucky for our Hero, the Man had followed him, unlucky for our Hero, the Man didn't follow him to the exact right place.

 He called to him from the window, but the glass and the garden between them kept the Hero from hearing. So, the Man did the only thing he could think of, and just as the poison was poised to go down, a shot rang through the dark, and the bad man fell to the floor at the Hero's feet.

Now, the Hero pretended that he didn't know, and the Man helped by pretending the same. I can't speak for our Hero, but I can tell you that was the night the Man knew his life was never going to be sad and ordinary again."

There was a steady rhythm of sleepy breath. John looked around to see that all of the children had fallen asleep.

"That's an interesting tale," Sherlock said.

"Oh, wipe that grin off your face. I was sick of reading those awful children's books, and so I just made something up."

"It's lovely, really."

"Should we bring them up to bed? Ethan already has his legs across you."

Sherlock looked around, and pushed Ethan further into the center of the bed, only for him to fight against it, and cling to him instead.

"No. They're fine."

John reached across and found Sherlock's fingers somewhere in their tangle of small bodies and sheets.

"I love you." He said.

"I love you, too."


End file.
